


Your heart beats like the clock

by MidnightBlueMoon



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Stiles Stilinski, Stalira, Villain!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 21:50:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5264939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidnightBlueMoon/pseuds/MidnightBlueMoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tick. Tock.<br/>Time is running.<br/>White walls, long corridors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your heart beats like the clock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhatIsMagic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatIsMagic/gifts).



> I have a great beta, J. You're awesome. I'd be lost without you.  
> And then there's H. It's your fault. Without you and J this wouldn't exist.
> 
> This is a gift to you, WhatIsMagic. There is not enough Stalira out there.

He is bored. The walls are still white, and the bed isn't that comfortable.  
The desk has exactly 71 scratches on it. He counted them more than once.  
The room is almost empty, just the bed and the desk. There's another room, a bathroom behind the door.  
Everything is safe, the furniture can't be moved. The floor is as white as the walls, the light is cold. It makes this scene unreal.

He is so bored. He's waiting. It has to happen soon. The time is running, he can feel it. There is no clock in the room, no daylight, nothing to make sure, but he feels it - it's about time.   
He smiles. It's the first reaction he shows since he's been here. He hasn't spoken one word, hasn't shown any reaction. He has been waiting.  
And then he hears it. It's a small sound, no one else would have heard. But he recognizes it. It vibrates deep in his bones, makes his heart beat faster. Adrenaline is rushing through his body, floating all his senses.

Suddenly he feels it all.   
The light, the coldness of the room, he can hear their footsteps. The ticking of a clock.  
Roses. Water. The soap they use here smells terrible.   
The footsteps come closer. The adrenaline rushes through his body, makes him feel alive. 

He closes his eyes. The world feels alive around him, he can form it like he wants to. And there is only one thing he wants now and he'll get it.   
The desk is ripped from the floor. It's floating in the air for a moment before smashing into the door. The bed slams against the wall, breaking into pieces.  
There are splinters floating around in the air, wood and metal. It's like a hurricane, they start spinning, and he's sitting in the eye of the hurricane. No, he is the eye.

Far away he hears the alarm go off.  
The door starts shaking, aching beneath the weight. They thought they could lock him away, thought they knew what he could do. They thought he wasn't strong enough to break free, to win this battle.   
They underestimated him.  
His eyes open up. It seems like there's a green flame burning inside them, consuming everything that comes too close to him.

The door aches a last time before it breaks.  
The pieces are slammed against the corridor's walls, making the guards jump. He hears them screaming, trying to figure out what to do.  
He stands up, the hurricane still around him, the pieces floating around without system, smashing into walls. He's got time. There is no way out. No running away.  
He steps through the broken door frame. Facing the guards, he takes in the scene.  
Seven guards, four of them pointing guns at him. One of them trying to call someone - probably the police, the last two watching their prisoner. It's almost too easy.   
The guns are ripped out of their hands in a second, twisting in the air until they're pointing at their heads. He won't shoot them, he's not a monster. But he can see the fear in their eyes, can feel their horror at what he is able to do.

There's a smirk creeping across his face. His glowing eyes meet hers and he sees, she's smiling too.  
"Give her to me."  
The guard is shaking like a leaf in the wind, but he still manages to speak.  
"We can't. We're ordered-"   
He chokes back the words when he sees Stiles' face.  
"I said. Give her to me."  
He takes the first step towards them.  
The guard in the back, a female officer points her gun at him. "Move and I will shoot you, I swear to God."   
He smiles at her and keeps walking. The sound of a gun firing cuts through the air and the world seems to slow down. He watches the officer. She's absolutely determined to do what she has to.   
The bullet is flying towards his heart. It's a good shot.  Surprising even. But not surprising enough. 

The bullet stops half a meter before his chest, falling down in his open hand.   
The guard opens her mouth, but no words come out.   
"Good shot."  
He slams the seven guards into the wall, knocking them out for a good while.   
Stiles rushes towards her.  Strokes her hair behind her ears, looking for cuts or other wounds. The fear of the possibility of hurting her makes his throat go tight.

"Stiles? Stiles, I'm okay." Her soft hands cover his cheeks and make him look into her eyes. Her soft, dark eyes look at him, calm him down.  
Kira kisses him. She feels so warm and right against him, even in this terrible blue overall everyone has to wear in here.  
She whispers against his lips. "Let's get out of here."

Stiles nods. There is someone waiting for them. He's going to see her again. He is going to be free again.  
The thought makes the light inside him burn brighter.  
Her hands, still cuffed together, are resting on his face.   
Within a second, the cuffs fall to the floor, without hurting her. She smiles at him.  
"Thank you." Stiles just kisses her. He missed her.  
She grabs his hand, leading the way out of those white walls.   
They run into one guard, but Stiles knocks him out. They hurry through the corridors, storming through the visitor's room. When they stumble out of the door,  Stiles breathes in.

The air smells like freedom and wildness.   
The honking of a car cuts through the air, and they both turn around at the same time.  
They see the small hand at the same time, the car's parked a few hundred meters away. Kira's hand grips Stiles' tight. 

"Come on. We missed you."   
He smiles at her, and they run towards their lover.  
She's sitting in the driver's seat, leaning out of the window.   
Stiles kisses her. Soft, and still passionate. She kisses him back with all the fire they love about her. When they part, Malia smiles.

"Let's get out of here."  
Kira presses a kiss to her lips before jumping in the back of the car.  
Stiles looks back. The prison seems like a dollhouse. He could rip it apart. It would be so easy.  
Malia's hand brings him back.  
She smiles at him, showing him why he's here.   
He's not a monster, whatever they say. He's not corrupted by hate.  
He's a lover, and here he is.   
And now they're going home.  
Stiles jumps in the car. Malia's eyes are on him through the mirror and Kira's fingers cover his.   
They smile at him.  
Stiles smiles, too.


End file.
